Triple Trouble
by tremor3258
Summary: When shameless Self-Inserts meet Predacons, sparks fly. Note: Post-movie, G1 era
1. Part One

"Cyclonus told me there would be days like this!" yelled the charging red and yellow Rhino as he stampeded across the rocky ground. Tantrum fled across the lonely surface towards a set of hills of a world that had so little importance in the grand scheme of things that it hadn't even been given a name when it was catalogued, merely a string of alphanumeric characters. But Planet 1 of Star BC3462-A did have two advantages for the Decepticons in these harried times: It was the closest planet to the weak red dwarf primary, and had the greatest collection of heavy metals and energy from the stellar furnace. Second, it was quite a distance from any of the major players in the war between the two ancient fractions. Cyclonus had chosen the Predacons to guard a small energy production facility, figuring they could use the exercise, and the fact he couldn't stand to put up with the group for any longer.

  
  


"Yeah, but you didn't believe him!" snorted Rampage, who skidded to a stop on top of a low rise to fire of his machine guns, causing the two jets in the sky, pretty much identical but for one yellow, and one blue for a paint job, to snap around to avoid the fire. The jets' professionalism and response to fire worked against them, since Rampage's guns had the same chance of hitting at this range as Galvatron had to get along peacefully with his subordinates for a whole week. Still, when they broke off, it gave the two a chance to get towards the hills, where the jet's speed would work against them. 

  
  


Razorclaw and Tantrum also fled towards the hills from another direction, pursued by a heavy bomber. Luckily, the Autobots had messed up several times. For one thing, the Predacons had picked the Autobots' approaching ship up on their sensors, and Razorclaw had managed to conceal the facility to a degree, and by letting loose the Predacons to battle in the skies had allowed the battle to be drawn even further from the facility. Tantrum standing up and shouting insults hadn't hurt, since it was very difficult for any warrior to ignore that good an easy target. Tantrum, luckily, had gotten off with a slight lmp.

  
  


Razorclaw had been working towards these hills for an hour. He had seen Divebomb heavily damaged by fire when the 'con had tried to take on the whole shuttle by himself, and crashed somewhere in this area. Sadly, Divebomb hadn't realized that the shuttle's surface would be energized sufficiently by reentry to project a magnetic field sufficient to rend Divebomb's internal circuitry useless. Razorclaw was depressingly use to these occurances, and had calculated a while ago that Divebomb should be about back up on his feet by now. The five Predacons could manage their slower robot modes and use their heavier firepower to pick off the Autobot jets that ruled the skies. It was another mark against the Autobots that they were allowing the Predacons to retreat to a defensible location.

  
  


To Razorclaw's benefit, his reasoning was exactly right, assuming the Autobots had been in their Earth mode of 'protect the energy resources'. He didn't realize that the Autobots were on the hunt. 

  
  


Things started to go bad for the Predacons when a large desert camouflaged tank burst from a covered hillside and started firing its cannon at Rampage and Headstrong. The two broke away as a large crater appeared in front of them. Meanwhile, for Razorclaw and Tantrum, they had the pleasure of dealing with a large robot, with the typical wings of a flight mode and wheels on his legs, who held a big rifle and stood in front of an energy-bound Divebomb. "Looking for something?" he asked with a rather large grin. 

  
  


Razorclaw's oil pressure rose alarmingly. Tantrum merely lowered his head sightly and sped up, ignoring his limp. A tiny working part of Razorclaw's cerbro-circuitry noted that he would have to deal with the complaints later after the joint gave out. Otherwise, Razorclaw was busy dodging around side to side, as the Autobot was standing to close to Divebomb to allow Razorclaw the use of his concussion blasters. 

  
  


Tantrum was angry. Not a shocking turn of events by any means, but the bull was angrier than usual. He disliked being shot when he couldn't shoot back, and now he had a nice big target to sink his horns into. Unfortunately, the target was showing very little fear and an alarming amount of reason. The robot calmly target his rifle and shot at the weakened leg. 

  
  


One benefit of running an energy farm was that Tantrum could keep his backup power cells full. One disadvantage was that these backup power cells weren't very well armored, especially when one had half the armor already blown off their leg. The leg remained fully functional, but the explosion was enough to temporarily stun Tantrum. 

  
  


Razorclaw roared and charged forward. He knew that the plane would soon circle back behind him, if it hadn't already, and had to take out this Autobot now. The Autobot grinned again, and transformed into a freight engine. "Oh, slag," was the most polite thought through Razorclaw's head before the Decepticon saw quite a few stars. 

  
  


The Autobot transformed himself back, and started to look around for binders. Meanwhile, the jet transformed smoothly besides him. The new robot had a blue and white color scheme, with missile pods on his hsoulders. Railram, the first one, spoke without looking up, "About time you showed up! If you hadn't taken your sweet time to get here Grinddown.."

  
  


The Autobot, about the same sized as Railram, rumbled, "You know how few landing spaces there are for a cargo plane around here?" Railram ignored the comment besides muttering, "Highfire and I managed to land."

  
  


Cued by dramatic necessity, Grinddown's radio spoke up, "I'm here, yeah?" Railram triggered his onto the same channel to here Highfire's report, as Grinddown started lassoing Tantrum.

  
  


"Well, besides knowing why Warpath enjoys his job so much, we didn't accomplish a lot. The two Preds managed to break around, and Skidpad and Fastrack can't hover. All we know is they're headed your way." The two Autobots looked up then, and grabbed their rifles, Railram keeping a prudent foot on Razorclaw's body. 

  
  


Headstrong's diffraction sword seemed to have gotten an upgrade, judging by Grinddown's first indication was a sword slice nearly tearing apart his fuel line. Reflexively, the Autobot launched his shoulder missiles. Headstrong had managed it perfectly, so Grinddown, trying to keep an eye on Divebomb, fired his missiles around Divebomb, blowing apart the restraints. 

  
  


Divebomb cackled madly, and transformed, shooting off both his weapons. Railram closed his eyes and triggered his forcefield. "Slagging Autobots with their slagging full fuel tanks," cursed the Predacon. 

  
  


Grinddown, busy dueling hand to hand with a Headstrong who had dropped his cloak after the initial attack and a furious Rampage, called out, "A little help for those of us without nifty force fields, oh defense officer?" Railram nodded, and carefully aimed his energy rifle. 

  
  


Razorclaw couldn't believe his luck. Despite some skill, these Autobots were either surprisingly inexperienced or uniformed about their enemy. Razorclaw's specialty was waiting for the right moment, and one qualified for when Railram's attention was diverted. The lion quickly heaved with his massive strength, throwing the surprised Autobot down. 

  
  


Highfire, Skidpad, and Fastrack, approaching in their plane modes, winced in advance as they anticipated Razorclaw's next phrase, "Predacons, merge and form Predaking!" The five robots quickly assumed their beast forms and threw themselves together into the massive warrior.

  
  


Highfire hissed over the radio, and no one had any time to berate him for the breakdown in discipline, as the Triplebot commander watched two of his subordinates quickly take their plane modes and get the 'hell out of dodge' to quote Jazz. Highfire called over the channel, "Any suggestions anyone?"

  
  


Railram called back, "Well, let's see, the only reason we're still flying is that Predaking is trying to shoot down five Autobots all at once. He's probably the strongest of all the Decepticon gestalts, and he's also the best coordinated. He also has a forcefield generator as good as Defensor's, and power to spare on it. I'd say we try and see how fast we can get off-planet."

  
  


Grinddown broke in next, the low voice of the slightly older Autobot louder than usual to carry over the noise of Predaking's shots, "Well, things aren't as bad as they seem. Tantrum's been hit pretty bad, and the others have taken at least some damage. After all, Razorclaw was under Railram's foot for a centacycle or so, it's amazing he can function." Inappropriately, Highfire and the two younger Autobots on his wing snickered, but Grinddown didn't give them any time before saying, "And, I don't think the Predacons were briefed on us. I doubt they'd have let themselves be led if they realized that the 'brothers' and I had teammates on the ground."

  
  


Fastrack broke onto the frequency, "So what you're saying is the last thing Predaking expects at this point is to be hit by a robot about his size?" 

  
  


Highfire said, "Definitely. If it was Meansor or Bruticus, the thought probably would have occurred to them, since they have some definitely strategic minded individuals. Predaking, though, from the reports I've seen, basically thinks 'shred, rend, destroy'."

  
  


Skidpad, unaffected even by a sixty-foot gestalt trying to shoot him out of the sky, said calmly, "Well, since you three need to transform before we can combine, I guess we'll just have to provide some distraction."

  
  


The other half of the jokingly called 'brothers', added, "Yes, once again, us tiny little carbots are saving your slow hides." The two F-22s did simultaneous barrel rolls as they dropped a few missiles from their wings. Predaking seemed not to notice. Fastrack gasped, "I don't believe it, he just shrugged off half our missile load!"

  
  


Highfire said in a mildly angry tone, "Listen, do you want to stay and play 'knock King Kong off the building' all day if you want, or we can actually try and take this guy out."

  
  


"Fine, fine, we'll be good, but we're going to be in serious need of a recharge afterwards," Skidpad answered.

  
  


Highfire went on in a more business-like tone, "All right then, everyone else, drop your ordinance. We'll need some cover against Predaking for a few seconds, and if he spots us lollygagging around in robot mode, we're slag. Railram, Grinddown, fire all your missiles in ten millicycles. Everyone else back up with the cannons. Once you're transformed into vehicular modes and have some speed, I'll drop down everything I got. Then Skidpad, Fastrack, hit them with everything you got left!" Everyone acknowledged the plan.

A huge assortment of missiles and bombs dropped from the racks of the smooth bomber and the massive modified cargo plane, whose nose opened to allow even more firepower to rain out. The firepower knocked Predaking back for a moment, and the smoke from the explosions obscured the gestalt's visual sensors. Meanwhile, Highfire's cannon on his A-10 jet form, the same as his tank, but modified for a little faster fire rate and a little less power, opened up. Skidpad and Fastrack had been firing through the whole experience. 

  
  


The two large Triplebots landed and quickly went to their robot modes. Fasttrack and Skidpad, used to fire support, dropped two of their four remaining missiles at Predaking's head. Two missed the small target when Predaking twisted at the last moment, but the gap gave the two on the ground time to switch to their vehicular modes, a giant pickup truck and train. Predaking growled and opened fire on the two triplechangers. Explosions cratered the ground as the two grimaced in pain. Neither's shocks were designed for this sort of terrain. 

  
  


"My turn!" announced Highfire, dropping some of the Autobot's finest work in explosives down. The Autobots had realized when giving the Triplebots the assignment to take out the Preds that the gestalt would probably be involved. Thus, Highfire's usual light show was taken up several notches.

  
  


"Ooh, pretty," commented Railram as he chugged along. Among other things, Highfire was currently packing light nukes for his plane form. "Still, I know how nervous those have been making him." 

  
  


Highfire quickly settled down into a running transformation along the surface. Skidpad and Fastrack pulled into formation above as Highfire gave the command, "Triplebots, merge and form Sabertron!" Railram and Grinddown skidded to a stop, and rose themselves up to a vertical axis, flipping around to form the legs. Highfire was the torso, and the two planes settled down to form the arms. 

  
  


Sabretron gave a cocky grin, "All right, Predaking. I've heard a lot about you. Let's get it on!" Predaking obliged, shooting off his energy rifle. The massive energy blast showed why Predaking was one of the most powerful gestalts ever constructed. But Sabretron's component parts had given up something in exchange for versatility. They didn't suffer as much from losses in firepower and armor in a mode as they could transform to best fit a situation. And while Sabretron was definitely far more powerful than the five separated, he also couldn't dodge as well as the Triplebots.

  
  


The Autobot gestalt skidded across the surface, tearing a path through the topsoil and rocks that ground against his back armor. Sabretron looked woozily at the melted spot in his armor. Another hit would probably breach his chest armor. "Hmm, did Highfire have a 'Plan B' prepared yet?" The gestalt looked up in fear as Predaking stomped closer, intent on finishing the kill.

  
  


End part 1

  
  


  
  



	2. Part Two

Triple Trouble pt. 2

  
  


Note: considering how Devastator isn't that smart, and he's made up of engineers, I don't think Predaking is the sharpest knife in the box, dialogue wise, as he's made up of a bunch of half-berserkers.. That's just personal opinion, and you're welcome to try and correct me. :)

  
  


******************

Predaking howled in triumph. The one who had dared to hurt it, and had left him partially worn from using his forcefield against the planes, had fallen in one shot. Predaking's personality depended on an interlink of the lower level functions of the Predacons, their instincts. But right now, some higher level coherency got through. Make him suffer! was the loudest suggestion, and Predaking, armor smouldering in a few spots, was all to eager to comply.

  
  


Sabretron struggled to get up, but wasn't able to focus enough, as his component mind was in chaos from the bolt. Sabretron thought about dissolving himself, but the damage reports that were flashing up decided the gestalt against it. While four of them might manage to make it, Highfire probably wouldn't be able to transform, assuming he would even be conscious from the shock of dissolution. 

  
  


Predaking, despite his component's wounds, moved with the seamless fluidity of a being whose component minds were well practiced with each other, and for that matter, furious at nearly being destroyed. The Decepticon had decided against the second shot, preferring to let the energon pool at his feet. 

  
  


Sabretron knew it gave him a chance, but precious seconds ticked by as he regained his coherency, small boulders rattling under Predaking's footsteps. He couldn't quite summon his rifle from subspace, but Skidpad and Fastrack carried heavy energy missile launchers in robot mode, and engineers had managed to allow access them in gestalt form as well. This is not going to be pleasant, thought the Autobot, before doing as he had been expressly told not to and fired both of the energy hogs at once.

  
  


Two coherent pulses of energy slammed out from the combiner's forearms. The recoil slammed Sabretron's head back into the ground, leaving his optics blurring as energy went to maintain flow to vital systems rather than things like the autofocussing circuits in his optics. Sabretron's capacitors, even when there wasn't energon leaking from his torso, lacked the charge to fire off both of those weapons at once without a little time in between. 

  
  


The move, however unpleasant as Sabretron got his bearings back, did prove to be effective. Predaking didn't quite have time to get his forcefield up, but what there was of the field deflected a large portion of the energy to rain down relatively harmlessly on Predaking's hide. The central core of the energy stream remained intact, and it blasted portions of Predaking's arm and chest armor into ionized flakes. 

  
  


Sabretron got unsteadily to his feet, a massive headache from the power fluctuations. Unsteadily, Sabretron's rifle, a massive gestalt weapon comprised of the sidearms of his members, faded in and out for a few moments before solidifying into his right arm. Sabretron stood there, rifle braced, waiting for Predaking to stand up again.

  
  


"Autobot honor," said Predaking in amusement when he stood back upon his feet. Frankly, he didn't look so good. Razorclaw's lion head was missing an optic across his chest, and Predaking's arm was moving a little stiffly. Predaking continued, "I'm surprised you hold to it. Your zombie leader certainly didn't before Megatron." It was possibly the most coherent phrase Predaking had gotten out, but he had to admit this warrior reminded him of himself, focused on the attack, and every little bit of surprise helped, especially with Primus knew what weapons yet to try and blast him.

  
  


Sabretron was shocked at the insult (and the length of the sentence), and squeezed the trigger by reflex. Sabretron's plasma energy rifle was a recent design, based on information ascertained after Cybertron's revival. It wasn't a lot of good against armor, melting it away with less efficiency than even a standard photon rifle, and was no where near a match for Predaking's arm mounted super-cannon for raw explosive power. But, when used against exposed circuitry, it quickly and efficiently burned them out. Frankly, Sabretron wasn't too fond of the weapon, it seemed like something a Decepticon would use, due to the experience of feeling the circuitry burning itself out, especially considering Predaking's recent taunt still rang in his audio circuits. 

  
  


But, Sabretron goofed up really. He was use to his targets in practice to have their armor cored through after a double energy-missile strike. But Sabretron wasn't on nearly as level ground and hadn't done as focused a strike. Not to mention target droids didn't have force fields. Predaking's armor was still intact in even its weakest spots, and Predaking had done a good job of making Sabretron fire too early. Green energy splashed against Predaking, flowing over the Transformer's surface before wisping away like flames.. The giant gestalt didn't waste time to wince, despite the pain winding its way up through surface receptors, but they were merely overloaded, and would quickly go back on line. Meanwhile, Predaking rushed through the flames, quickly firing his laser cannon in return. Predaking found such things as optics full of static a minor inconvenience at best.

  
  


The gout of energy slammed into Sabretron's left arm. Sabretron cut the trigger before the energy stream would obliterate some innocent rocks as his aim went wide of the gestalt. Predaking, back fully in the lust of battle, roared in triumph as it approached. Sabretron risked another energy missile, but Predaking almost spun in place, the explosion kicking up shrapnel that dinged the leg armor.

  
  


"Okay, just why did they even need to put a forcefield on you again?" Sabretron asked in dismay as Predaking continued to close. Running out of ideas very quickly, Sabretron returned his weapon to his subspace pocket and took a running leap at Predaking. Predaking grinned ferally and activated his force field. Hundreds of tons of cybertronium/titanium alloy moving at about thirty meters per second is a heck of a lot of kinetic force. This object lesson is presented to explain what happens when the immovable force hits the very quickly moving heavy object. While Predaking's force field was up, no solid object had ever made it to within a little more than three meters of Predaking. Sabretron made it to about 3.5, almost a new record. However, that cost was a huge amount of power being poured directly into Sabretron, courtesy of the force field. The force of the energy threw Sabretron back, and the heat energy as the force field howled under the stress turned the ground to lava in a ring around the gestalt. Wherever Sabretron had touched the field, his paint, and the upper layers of the armor had been vaporized. 

  
  


Predaking dropped the force field before dropping to one knee. Forcing back that mass of metal had cost him dearly in terms of energon supply. It was for these situations, more than personal use, that Tantrum carried additional fuel tanks, but with one exploded, the fuel lines had been a bit clogged with debris, and Predaking was finding himself running low on power far sooner than he was expected to.

  
  


It is time to reappraise the situation, thought Predaking with respect. He found this gestalt an odd foe, one fully eager to attack with full force that was very rare among the Autobots. For that matter, it had been the last battle against Defensor, whose force screen made most of Predaking's usual tactics worthless, that had left him in such a condition. Yet, it had been Defensor's allies who had carried the day, with firepower Defensor had lacked. Sabretron had better firepower, but no force field. And the prey was now weak. Predacon staggered as he began to close, more slowly and cautiously, but still, he was prepared to mount each head of the gestalt team on its own individual pole.

  
  


Hmm, what would Optimus do? I mean, besides realizing that even if he died, it wouldn't take, thought Sabretron. Predaking's armor was still unbreached, leaving the gestalt's combined weapon worse than useless, as angering a feral 20 meter tall robot with super-laser beams had already proven a brilliant maneuver. Sabretron quickly shot a mental command at the Triplebots enough with the insults. You buy it too if I do! 

His mind now clearer, Sabretron did a desperate inventory check, Maybe I can throw some missiles at him, but they're all used up! Then Sabretron grinned, finding something useful. Sabretron stored his rifle back in subspace. Predaking shrugged, and raised his laser cannon, ready for a close range blast to open Sabretron up.

  
  


Working quickly, Sabretron opened a compartment on his side corresponding to where Highfire kept his energo-sword, since they started handing them out to team leaders. It was more like an energo-dagger in Sabretron's hands, and he ignited the blade on his limited reserves. Predaking merely growled and fired off a partly-charged x-ray blast, which scattered lightly over Sabretron. The gestalt knew he was going to glow in the dark after this mission. Still, the energy was diffused enough not to take anything off-line, but with Sabretron's armor so thin, phantom signals twisted through his circuits for a moment, and the pain was sufficient that his components tried to break down into individual modes to escape, but the armor melted into his fracture points prevented it. Literally writing, Sabretron still managed to swing the sword, slicing into Predaking's arm, and taking the left arm off a little below the elbow. 

  
  


Predaking survived having one of the parts of its mind sheered through with surprisingly little expression. Reflexes quickly shut off the flow of energon to the arm before more than a little bit of fluid dripped from the wound. (Note: I have no idea if it's Rampage of Divebomb who makes up Predaking's right arm I think it's Divebomb though). Predaking reared back with his left arm, and slammed it into Sabretron's chest. The armor, weakened to the thickness of paint in several places, buckled under the blow, and Predaking withdrew his hand, holding several components that Sabretron didn't recognize, but Highfire could point them out as several subsystems conductive towards long-term survival. 

  
  


Sabretron swung with the energo-sword once again, impaling it in Predaking's chest, going through Razorclaw's other optic on Predaking's chest. Predaking paused, about to rip Sabretron's head off, before he fell backwards, energon pumps damaged and in stasis lock. Sabretron's energo-sword, still impaled, sputtered out as Sabretron's last reserves went to stasis lock as well, and the gestalt fell backwards, a pitted wreck.

  
  


Highfire awoke later, looking up at an orange ceiling. Highfire rose his head up slightly to bang it into the bed, but found himself unablet o move, "He went to play beserker again, didn't he?" groaned the Autobot. 

  
  


First Aid's voice floated down from above, "You're lucky to have made it. We didn't realize the Predacons were guarding the base, or we'd have sent some more backup. At least, from what your memory tracks suggested, it was the Predacons. You were the most damaged, but everyone's currently confined to rest until we can finish the armor repairs. "

  
  


Blades leaned down over Highfire and said cheerfully, "Man, you guys really got shredded good! I'd say it was either the Predacons or there's another set of Triplebots out there. Did you see the practice field last month, when Sabretron challenged Omega to a duel? Oh man, I'm glad I got a tape of that." 

  
  


"Blades!" yelled First Aid, "Let me deal with the patient here. They've got enough on their minds!"

  
  


Blades shrugged and walked off, muttering, "I'm just glad they went up Predaking instead of us, I still get aches in my joints." Highfire shook his head in amusement.

  
  


In a slightly less hospitable setting, Cyclonus was staring angrily at the Predacons, hooked up to various support equipment. The Constructicons were working on the various robots, who they had separated to stick Divebomb back together. Cyclonus had finished up a slight chewing out session with, "Well, the base remained intact, and you had to at least cripple the gestalt when you managed to put the fist through the chest. All in all, very well considering you had no idea what were you up against. I have to go talk to our Intelligence Division. But, did any of you ever consider breaking off and regrouping?" Four blank stares and Divebomb's glassy one stared back at Cyclonus in wonder. "Never mind," grumbled the overworked second in command. 

  
  


Cyclonus started to walk out, and then paused, "Of course, with everything going on, we may just have a mission for you. Now that the Autobots have another gestalt, we have to keep things even. Either go retrieve some Sparks from Cybertron, or get rid of one of them, any one of them." The Predacons looked up more eagerly, before Hook pushed a button and took out their motor controls, knocking them down. 

  
  


Hook grumbled, "Can you please sit still? This is a delicate procedure even for me? Seriously, can we hook them up to a chicken-coop raiding simulation or something?" demanded Hook of Scrapper. Scrapper shrugged helplessly as Cyclonus closed the door.

  
  


"Let slip the Preds of war," grinned Cyclonus as he misquoted. Though he hoped he hoped the Constructicons would finish soon, Cyclonus had a meeting with Galvatron in an hour, and he hated waiting around for repairs afterward.

  
  
  
  


Author's note: Hmm, I may have to make this a continuous series, except this is a pretty good stopping point for now. Sadly, my take on the Predacons was almost more interesting than the Triplebots so far, so I think the Triplebots will be out of it for a little while, if I go back to them. (Cute little scamps, but they need a character piece to develop them properly, not just these action sequences). By the way, Sabretron using his component's weapons was the ONLY way I could find to keep everyone in character, and get him out of the situation alive. I had to rewrite the paragraphs after Predaking's taunt six times to get something I feel moderately happy with. 


End file.
